


Same Old Love

by blueaurora



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Coming of Age, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slice of Life, Summer based, Sweet Angst, They're all 18, Underage Drinking, a lot of fluff, bassist wooyoung, friendship is beautiful folks, rockband ateez makes an appeareance, san is a little bit dramatic but so am I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:33:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28365465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueaurora/pseuds/blueaurora
Summary: San and Wooyoung grew up together.Touching the bright blue sky of their eighteenth summer with his fingertips, San's heart breaks down to pieces because he wants to grow older with Wooyoung, but Wooyoung is leaving their old small town instead.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung
Comments: 33
Kudos: 100





	Same Old Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lauvmin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lauvmin/gifts).



> welcome to another summer love woosan au bc I'm a sucker for them  
> this will be the fic that closes my 2020 writing story and I can proudly say that I enjoyed writing this. it is far from being the best I can pull off my brain, but the scenario, the childhood friends vibes, and the rockband concept... Alexa play Inception because I am in love.  
> I hope you can enjoy it as much as I did, and thank you so much for following me throughout this hell of a year!
> 
> this story is a gift for the love of my life, lau.  
> Happy delayed xmas! Thank you for all the love you've poured into my life, I hope this story is able to exceeds your expectations. I love you!

* * *

The summer chirps are the only thing audible as San stands in front of their current hanging out spot: the empty parking lot of an old coffee shop that was no longer running. The owner was a city boy, fresh out of college, big dreams and high expectations glisten up his expression. But they were just a simple old town, not more than three thousand people scrunching their noses at everything slightly new.

It lasted two months, five if they take into account all the months the man took to rebuild the Lee's old workshop into the modern coffee shop. White walls filled with expensive pictures of the 50's movie stars, big windows going up to the ceiling giving enough sunlight to not need artificial lights, a fancy menu with fifteen different types of coffee and even more types of cakes behind a glass counter. It happened during the summer San turned sixteen. 

By the end of that summer, the man was out of town, but his dreams were splattered all over the new fancy parking lot. San always thought he was brave, for following his dreams without being scared of the future. 

The summer San turns eighteen, he starts thinking that man was just blindly running into the unknown. 

And, yeah, he was an idiot. 

San grew up in that small, old town situated in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by the forest and the mountains—that's where San gets his own name, actually. Eighteen entire years. His parents moved from Namhae in search of a peaceful place to raise their kids. Remaining old fashioned and with the nearest town two hours far from it, there's not a lot to do there. Not a lot of things to enjoy once you turn into an adult and the secret bases and the roads to ride your bike down become small and lose all its charm. San always dreamed of going out, following his dreams, and discovering the big world that can't fit in his hand. 

But all that was when he was a kid with big dreams, big expectations and no worries. When he thought he could do everything he wanted. 

Staring at the abandoned coffee shop, one month away from turning eighteen, he is not quite sure if he is ready to step outside and get all his little dreams crushed. 

The sound of cicadas and the warm, dry breeze are the first signals that summer is around the corner. Still wearing a hoodie, eyes fixed on the bright, clean sky, San wonders how the end of the summer will look like. This summer that is not like the rest, because they're finally stepping into adulthood.

How many pieces of his calm life inside his same old town will go missing when September brings its rain. 

"San, what are you doing?" Yunho screams, the sound of his voice wavering like warm air around San's hair. The gravel cracks under his feet when he moves to face his friends. 

Everything is so loud when there's no actual sound around. Like the sound of his shoes scratching the ground as he moves from his spot in the middle of the road to the back of Hongjoong's truck. Or Wooyoung's loud giggles–no, San notices he is not giggling at all, he is laughing with his mouth open and his head thrown back, body moving along that music gurgling from the deepest part of his chest.

Or the sound of his heart. San's heart has always been awfully loud. Sometimes, when he is sitting on his usual spot in between Wooyoung's legs and everyone goes silent, he gets scared they would be able to catch the erratic beatings of his heart. 

Thank God, that's not something that happens frequently. Not when the only friends he has are part of a rock band. And rockstars are never quiet. 

"Did you get a sunstroke?" Yunho asks once he reaches their position, warm and sweaty fingers glued to his forehead in a second. San purses his lips, body shaken by a shiver. "You're burning!"

"I can't believe he is not dead yet, walking around in that hoodie," Yeosang says, acting like he is not there. And he knows how much San hates when they talk about him in third person. "Wait, isn't that Wooyoung's hoodie?"

"That's it!" Seonghwa snaps his fingers. "I was looking at him, wondering why it looked so damn familiar."

"Are you stealing clothes now?" adds Mingi, not waiting a second to yawn. 

San looks down, still in silence. He has always been a quiet person. He likes to observe better, and maybe that's the reason he fits so well in between a loud group of rockstars. Because, another thing about rockstars, is that they need someone to listen to them ranting about songs and guitars and long tiring tours around the world in a mini bus. 

San's always eating up his thoughts. Just like he is doing now, eyes meeting the red fabric.

It's true he is wearing Wooyoung's red hoodie. San loves that hoodie. It's big, even when Wooyoung is smaller than San. And it smells like the sea. Weird, because they don't have the sea close, but still nice to snuggle to. Wooyoung got it from his older brother, who is currently living in the capital. It is Wooyoung's most precious treasure. 

San thinks hard, but he doesn't remember the reason he still has it. He can't even pinpoint the time Wooyoung lent it to him. Or if he just forgot it on the floor of San's room and he simply forgot to give it back, which is unlikely because Wooyoung treats that hoodie better than he treats Seonghwa. 

San scowls. Even with his brain foggy due to the morning summer warmth, it is easy for him to find a new way leading towards Wooyoung. That infuriates him. 

"Guys I think he is sick for real," is Yunho again, voice filled with genuine worry, this time holding him by the shoulders. "Are you okay, Sani? Do you need some water? Someone give me water!" The boy nervously flails his hands in the air, eyeing the rest of them, either sitting at the back of Hongjoong's truck or lazily leaning over it.

"I only have tequila," Yeosang says, enough to make everyone bubble with loudness.

The truth is, San does feel a little lackadaisical today. He woke up exhausted, chest heavy, weighing him down. All his limbs hurting like he just ran a marathon. And the stickiness of the summer already getting tangled on his hair and kissing the small of his back.

Classes ended just yesterday. He spent the entire night playing video games on the old console his father got for him for his fifteenth birthday with Wooyoung as a celebration. The quality of the TV being so poor every color looks worn out, not far from becoming black and white. Not the best, but Wooyoung doesn't mind. He never minds.

Maybe that's why San still has his hoodie. 

"It's fine," he lets the words out with a sigh, making his way to the truck with tiny, slow steps. He jumps in between Wooyoung and Yeosang, accepting Yeosang's half hug but rejecting the tequila. Wooyoung remains silent, staring at him through his long, silky black bangs. The look on his eyes is different, it makes San's heart shrink in cold water. 

That's right. Playing video games is not the only thing they did.

"I'll give it back," San mumbles, pointing at the hoodie. "Once I wash it."

"No problem," Wooyoung ducks his head low, slowly swinging his feet. 

It takes a few seconds for them all to come back into their conversation, voices sparkling around like refreshing water drops on a very hot summer day. San doesn't have time to listen to what they are bubbling about today, distracted by a flock of birds furrowing the sky. So free. Without worries. No big dreams. Just flying and moving forward.

Slightly, he comes back to his feet, feeling Wooyoung's pinky interlacing with his own. His friend is still looking ahead, happily smiling at Yunho's vivid representation of whatever story that occurred to him on his way to buy eggs—because he swears Miss Kwon's shop is haunted and the ghost dislikes him because of how alive he always looks. San believes Yunho isn't aware of how vague he is, being him and not a ghost, the one that ended up dropping an entire set of eggs into his own head. 

San pouts, holding tight into Wooyoung's pinky.

Deep down, he knows Wooyoung is the reason he is acting like he just lost his will to live. And how mad San is that he can't get mad at Wooyoung for being braver than him and actually fearlessly achieving his dreams.

San loves Wooyoung so much to be mad. But because of how much he loves him, he can't be happy either with the fact Wooyoung is leaving him. Alone in their old town, where they grew up. Where San learned how to ride a bike, how to dance and how to play guitar, even when he doesn't do any of that anymore.

The same old town where he fell in love for the first time. And the same one where he is about to get his heart broken, for the first time as well. Because for the past eighteen years, San has loved no other but Wooyoung. 

And Wooyoung… Wooyoung loves the city. He loves the noise, the purr of the car engines and all the city lights outshining the stars. Wooyoung also loves music, and his bass.

San knows well. Another thing he is sure about rockstars is that they don't stay in old towns forever. They blindly run towards the future. They don't look back at their old love.

❀

When San first learned how to walk, Wooyoung was already there stumbling next to him. And when San got his first bike, Wooyoung was the one teaching him how to ride it without falling and scratching his knees. They grew up together holding hands and running down the same road.

But in such a small town, they all grew up at the same time. They were friends way before knowing the meaning of the word _friendship._ San loves them to the point of his heart hurting every time he looks at them. But in the end, the love he holds for Wooyoung goes in a different way. 

The only reason Wooyoung ended up going different ways from Yunho, who claims himself San's best friend, San can't pinpoint it, but he is sure it has to do with how his bedroom window faces Wooyoung's. 

It is still fresh in San's memory, even after so many years. How he used to wake up in a rush and run towards the window first thing in the morning. And there was Wooyoung, nose glued to the glass, making funny faces and waving his hand at him.

With the passing of years it changed from excitedly jumping around to just lean over the window ledge, quietly chatting before getting ready for school. 

Every morning, for fourteen entire years, San has been waking up to Wooyoung. 

And he is a man of customs, so when Wooyoung put the game controller down and started talking about his plans of leaving the town by the end of the summer, San's brain decided to play the same melody of when a character faces a dead end. 

If Wooyoung leaves, San will be facing an empty window. 

Everyone has been dreaming of leaving once they turn eighteen for the past months, actually. Jongho wants to go to college, Mingi wants to open his own vinyls shop, Yeosang just wants to become a city boy and buy himself some decent expensive shoes. And they all want to keep playing together, shaking their bodies to the rhythm of the music, composing new songs. Hongjoong even dreams of singing under a big discography and becoming famous, just like _Queen_ did.

San is happy. 

But with Wooyoung is different. When the boy talks about getting out of town, he does it like he never enjoyed it there. San wants to believe his words about pursuing his career as a bassist in the city, where people can make a star out of him, and not his own thoughts. That Wooyoung got tired of their town, and their life, and their _love._

San wanted to go to college when he was fifteen, right before he learned how harsh life out of his comfort zone can be. Now, the college application papers lay forgotten on the deepest part of his drawer. 

Looking down at his feet San tries to not feel like an idiot. It's not like he is dating Wooyoung. Moreover, the only person in town that knows San is utterly in love with Wooyoung, is San.

He wanted to confess, but waking up after their little talk has him sinking and pushing that thought deep down his mind. _What's the point now?_ He thinks. 

Being the beginning of June, still so early into the summer, the sun sets around seven in the afternoon. They all jump inside Hongjoong's truck and move from the empty parking lot to Seonghwa's house, where his parents kindly allowed them to practice in the garage. 

Wooyoung looks at him the entire ride but says nothing. Sitting in front of him, feet touching. San focuses on the way his hair waves with the warm breeze. They've become long, too long.

San is not the only one that's not an official member of _Sunrise_ , Seonghwa and Mingi accompanying him on the couch, sharing a bowl of homemade ice cream while listening to the group rehearsal, courtesy of Miss Park. They own the town's ice cream parlor, San and Wooyoung's favorite place. They've spent hours sitting inside during the summer, with and without Seonghwa. Always sharing a cup of mint chocolate ice cream. 

Hongjoong came up with _Sunrise_ the summer they were fourteen. He found some old vinyls among his father's things, and he started daydreaming about becoming one of those persons being able to reach people's hearts through rock music. Wooyoung was the first one jumping in, begging on his knees until his parents got him a bass. Yunho followed, and then Jongho, and finally Yeosang came across with an old drums that was his grandfather's. 

San always looked at them in awe, from their little concerts in Seonghwa's garage to being the only band playing during the summer festival when they were sixteen. 

On the stage, Wooyoung beams like the sun. San's heart always knew that was where he was supposed to stand on. Everyone has a place in the world, one place that pulls everything good out of people's hearts. A safe place. Too bad San's safe place is his town, and maybe Wooyoung's arms. 

"Hey, who wants lemonade?" Seonghwa stands up in the middle of _Fever_ , San's favorite song, making Yunho miss the tune, eyes widening with the idea of cold lemonade already bubbling down his throat. It's Hongjoong the one scowling at him, and not San. He really loves that song.

"What did I tell you about walking into rehearsals?" He groans into the mic.

"Joong, my dude, this is a garage and if Mingi stretches his leg he will be kicking Yeosang," Seonghwa says as he steps in between Hongjoong and Yunho to get to the door. It is true. The garage is so small they're always on top of each other, but that is what makes it special. "I did not walk into your rehearsal, your rehearsal is all over my garage."

"Still."

"Do you want lemonade or not?" Seonghwa sighs, one hand on the doorknob. 

Hongjoong heavily sighs back into the mic, sound rumbling around the room. 

"Of course I want."

"Pour half bottle of my tequila in, please," Yeosang adds, raising a ramrod towards Seonghwa, who ignores him well, closing the door at his back. Yeosang raises his voice then. "I'm turning eighteen in ten days, and then you won't be able to interfere in between me and all the alcohol in this town."

Not a lot, San thinks. And it's not like they hadn't drank before. Parties underneath a sky not blinded by the city lights are kind of beautiful, stars shining so bright and close one could think of touching them with just raising one hand. Yet, they end up turning boring after a lifetime watching that same sky. Seonghwa's only concern is Yeosang's liver, and how he is abusing it at the sweet age of seventeen. 

The first time San tasted the alcohol, he was fourteen. Stealing a bottle of bourbon from Wooyoung's father's drinks cabinet and pouring the liquid in plastic cups, both of them sitting with their legs crossed on top of Wooyoung's car patterned carpet. Needless to say, it wasn't a good experience. The taste was way too strong, burning their throats. Wooyoung wanted to go till the end, though, and the end became both of them jumping like crazy on Wooyoung's mattress. And then, taking turns to throw up.

With the years, Wooyoung has become a better drinker than San. He is jealous of that.

"We should take a rest," Hongjoong speaks into the mic again when Seonghwa comes back with a tray with eight glasses and two lemonade pitchers. 

No one complains because even when the sun is already down and calmly sleeping in between the mountains, the warmth of the day remains around them and the way the ice cubes crash against each other is way too tempting to say no.

Yunho is fast in starting another story that involves ghosts, and this time the reason San doesn't listen is because Wooyoung is tugging on his sleeve, asking him to follow him outside with a tilt of his head.

"If you're mad about the hoodie, I'm really sorry," San nervously starts, fingers gripping hard around the glass, water droplets sliding from there into his hand, falling down like rivulets over his life line. "I just put on the first thing I saw. I wasn't thinking."

"I don't care about the hoodie, dumbass," Wooyoung drags his feet far from the garage door, putting some distance between them and the rest, sitting by the curb. San quickly follows him, putting the glass down between his feet, a little surprised to hear those words coming out of Wooyoung's mouth. He _loves_ that hoodie more than everything else. "It suits you, you know?"

"Hmm?"

San's teeth shyly sink in his lower lip, looking down at the glass.

"Red suits you," Wooyoung yawns, moving slowly, almost shy, until he is resting his head on San's shoulder. A simple gesture they're boringly used to, no reason for San's heart to jump inside his chest like it does.

There's no other sound breaking in the afternoon aside from the cicadas and San's heartbeats. He is sure Wooyoung is conscious of the sound, not rhythmical and rushed, even when he doesn't seem to mind, still humming _Fever_ under his breath. 

"What happens, then?" San decides to ask after observing the water drops race over the surface of the glass for a whole minute.

Wooyoung comes back into his sitting posture, resting his arms over his knees, and then his chin over his arms. His gaze gets lost in the line of the forest, where the remaining rays of sunshine decorate the trunks, faintly ethereal, making it glow like the forest got some magic.

"Are you okay?" Wooyoung's voice doesn't go above a whisper and yet, it sounds loud to San.

He bounces a little, teeth sheepishly biting down the corner of his mouth. 

"Yeah. You?"

Wooyoung looks at him, eyes wide open. Suddenly, San feels the urge of crying, and he doesn't even know why. Wooyoung is still here after all. He still has three more months with him.

Guess Wooyoung is able to read his expression, because he is suddenly getting closer, arms quickly finding a way to San's waist. He hugs him tightly, hiding his face on the crook of his neck. San needs to close his eyes to not get mesmerized by the glowing light in front of him, pouring his entire attention into Wooyoung. 

He inhales, taking with him the soft scent of Wooyoung's shampoo. It's not fruit scented like Yunho's, neither flower scented like his own. Wooyoung never liked strong scents, so he went for a soap without a smell at all. Yet, San does find it. It smells like home, and the sea. A lazy summer afternoon running down the sand, getting salt on the face, the sun warming their heads. Wooyoung's own personal scent. 

"Are you mad at me?" Wooyoung decides to ask now, lips so close he ends up brushing them onto San's skin, tickling a little. 

San raises up a hand, fingers tousling Wooyoung's hair.

"Why would I be?" The words come out in waves, stuck on his throat. 

"You're acting weird," Wooyoung shrugs. "And you got up late today. Didn't see you."

San opens his eyes, looking down. He didn't feel like getting outside the bed in that morning, and he didn't stand in front of his window. He never missed it before. Never. To know Wooyoung was there makes him a little bit grim. 

"I am not mad at you, Woo. It's the summer, I am just tired."

"You sure?" Wooyoung moves up, finding San's eyes. They're glowing, saying much more than words can. That's something San has always liked about Wooyoung. One look into his eyes is enough to make him feel at ease.

"I'm sure," San says, saying the truth. He is not mad, he will never be. At least, not mad at Wooyoung. 

"Okay," Wooyoung accepts it, one hand flying to his cheek, lips softly brushing San's cheekbone one second later. "Cheer up."

San's heart shrinks inside his chest, becoming one with the town for a second. Falling in silence. 

❀

Next morning, San wakes up on time. He left the window opened last night, so the morning breeze welcomes him with the smell of freshly baked bread when he presses his hands down the window ledge. Wooyoung is already there, wearing nothing but a white plain t-shirt and underwear. Bed hair waving San way before Wooyoung is raising a hand to do it.

He is going to miss this.

San waves back. Wooyoung has his eyes closed, lazily brushing his teeth on the spot. They both stand there for a minute before San is moving back, brushing his hairs with his own fingers, annoyingly looking down at his teddy bear patterned pajamas. 

Tugging from the collar and taking off the shirt, a single thought nibbles around the corners of his brain. Maybe Wooyoung matured before San. Maybe they're already two different ages. Standing at different ends of what used to be the same line, Wooyoung's back distorting like a summer mirage, slowly walking away from him. 

It's too late when San reaches out his hand in the air. His fingers can't get a hold of him anymore. He wonders how they ended up like this when they learnt how to walk hand in hand. 

"Can you wash this for me?" San comes down the stairs, holding his pajamas as well as Wooyoung's hoodie close to his chest. His mother is cooking breakfast, delicately tugging one strand of the same thick black hair she passed onto San behind her ear. "But wash this aside. It's Wooyoung's."

"Sure, sweetheart. What happened to your pajamas?" She notices, catching the blue fabric. 

"I'm too old for teddy bears," he mumbles, fingers brushing one of the tiny bears playing around a baby blue canvas. "You can give it to the Park's. They have a little kid."

"This is too big for a little kid, Sani," She giggles, one hand resting over her hip. "But I guess I can take it to the town hall."

"Wash this first," San shrugs, delicately putting Wooyoung's red hoodie on top. 

Right after finishing lunch, San crosses the street and knocks on the yellow door of the Jung's residence, tightly holding onto the dried hoodie. It smells like lavender, making San scrunch his nose in disappointment. Wooyoung's smell is nowhere to be found now. 

Wooyoung's mother receives him with a bright smile, the same eyesmile San has already memorized glowing on her face. Wooyoung took it from her. She tells him Wooyoung is upstairs, taking a nap, and San is already jumping inside the house like it is his own. He doesn't even bother knocking on Wooyoung's closed door. 

The boy is laying in bed with his eyes closed, one arm thrown over his eyes and the other one lightly resting over his moving chest. Up and down with his steady breathing. He is wearing some pants now, but the shirt is the same he was wearing in the morning, stain of toothpaste slinking in between the wrinkles.

He is listening to music, maybe even sleeping for real, so he doesn't flinch when San steps inside. And for a few seconds, San stands there, delighted with his own lack of presence. He gets to observe Wooyoung. Put on some music and sit down in front of a white canvas, portray that image there so it can last forever. His black hairs falling around like silk, the perfect line of his nose, the skin kissed by the sun. 

Wooyoung seems too ethereal right in front of his eyes. 

San closes the door in silence, hands taking a tight grip around the cloth. Wooyoung moves with the soft click of the door, moving his arm aside to look over there. He closes his eyes again when he realizes it's San.

Wooyoung's room is bigger than San's, yet it always looks smaller due to the amount of musical posters glued to the walls. His bass is perfectly placed in one corner of the room meanwhile the acoustic guitar he got at the beginning of the year lays on top of the desk, as if he was playing it not long ago. His small TV lays a few centimetres apart, also over the same desk where they used to break their heads together while doing maths problems during third grade. He still has the same yellow curtains his mother put there while she was decorating the baby's room, something San finds cute.

"Wanna nap?" Wooyoung rolls in bed, fully opening his eyes now. His voice comes out raspy, making San's throat a little dry. He observes how San places the hoodie on its place inside the drawer, turning on his heels to face him. San presses his lips together, thinking hard about what he wants to do now, Wooyoung softly patting the mattress next to him.

Sniffling a little, he decides to move forward and take a place next to Wooyoung. He is soon floating around in calm water, the soft smell coming from every corner of the room waving him to sleep. 

Wooyoung throws a hand over his waist, one leg curling around San's one. He presses his nose into San's cheek, breathing loudly. Yet, when he speaks, he does it in a whisper. 

"How are you?" Wooyoung sounds drowsy.

San can't help the way his heart swells inside his chest, fingers starting to move all over Wooyoung's forearm. 

"Fine. Did you stay until late last night?" Wooyoung nods slowly, tiredly sighing one second next. 

"Writing a song."

"For the festival?" Wooyoung shrugs, not giving a clear answer and snuggling closer to San. Every part where his skin meets San's skin is burning. "Aren't you hot?"

"I'm warm. It's fine," he mumbles, half his body resting on top of San's by now. "Want to listen?"

San gulps, wiggling his toes. "To the song you wrote?"

Wooyoung chortles in a whisper, one hand flying to San's neck as he snuggles even closer, resting there. San is scared Wooyoung's fingertips will shake with his unsteady pulse leading him to wonder why he is so agitated. They cuddle all the time. It shouldn't be a big deal.

"Not yet," Wooyoung offers an earphone with his free hand.

San accepts it with a sigh of relief, just to find out he has been listening to _Queen._ His mouth goes a little dry as the lyrics harshly pull from him out of the mirage. Wooyoung falls in silence, directly breathing all over his skin.

At peace. 

San feels like crying. 

_Love of my life, you've hurt me. You've broken my heart, and now you leave me._

San stares blankly into the ceiling, fingers abruptly stopping their movement. Tears blurr his vision in less than a heartbeat. He never thought a song could make him ache so deeply, until now.

_Love of my life, don't leave me._

❀

San stopped riding his bike when he was twelve and he broke his wrist falling from a hill. Far from having a trauma, he just decided he didn't need to ride a bike when he could just hop at the back of Wooyoung's one and spread his arms in the air, feeling so light he swore he could fly. 

When Hongjoong inherited his grandpa's truck the times they met to ride their bikes started to reduce until one day, two months passed since the last time San got to ride at the back of Wooyoung's bike. Yet, during the summer it's much more comfortable to move around on their bikes. Air taking away every single worry and pulling from the most genuine happiness out of their hearts. 

Getting downtown on the day of Yeosang's eighteenth birthday, San looks up at the blue sky as Wooyoung speeds up, trying to catch Yunho. The only sounds reaching his ears are the ones of summer finally bubbling around them in thousand colors: the wheels purring over the asphalt, the steady pedaling of four bikes, the giggles and loud screams coming from everywhere. 

This time, San has his hands down, too scared Wooyoung's guitar slides from his shoulder and crashes into the warm asphalt dazzling underneath their bodies. Tightly holding onto the seat, San's chest is glued to Wooyoung's arched back. One inch closer and he will be sinking his nose on Wooyoung's hair. He still feels like he can fly.

After a twenty minute long ride from Yeosang's house, they stop at the only convenience store in town. A small shop run by Mingi's parents, so it's not a surprise they're making a fuss the second they park their bikes and enthusiastically jump around. Hongjoong, Seonghwa and Jongho are in charge of buying the food, so they're not around. 

Wooyoung waits until San is hopping off the bike to get off. San balances his body a little, shaking his head when Wooyoung asks for the guitar case. It's not heavy, is what San's tries to say with the shrug of his shoulders. Wooyoung accepts it, beaming shortly before tangling their pinkies together, leading them both inside the store.

"Looking good today, my favorite couple," Yeji waves at them from the counter, lazily licking a lollipop. The way her hair is braided is cute, but the derision sparkling in her eyes makes San scowl and pout. 

Unconsciously, his body fidgets, arm moving back trying to break the hold around Wooyoung's pinky. Wooyoung's response is curling his fingers around San's wrist tighter. Yeji smiles, obviously amused by that.

San ducks his head low. 

_We are not a couple._ That's what he wants to say, but the loudness of his heart prevents him from doing it so. And Yeji is already focusing her attention towards Yunho and Yeosang, standing in front of the alcohol aisle. 

"Party night?" She comes around the counter, walking next to Wooyoung. 

"Yeosang's birthday," says Wooyoung, not bothered at all by that word. 

_Couple._

It's true Wooyoung and San are glued by the hip. Wherever Wooyoung goes, there's San and all the way around. They're also the only ones from his group of friends that never dated anyone, not even for five hours — Mingi's shortest relationship, with San's older sister and just because Yunho dared him. Still, they never acted like a couple. Friends hold hands, friends hug, friends kiss each other's cheeks.

Even when Wooyoung has kissed San's nape on several occasions, they're not a couple. They'll never be. 

"Wanna head along? You can bring Ryujin."

Yeji is laughing loudly, nudging Wooyoung on the stomach. San's body moves along Wooyoung when he bends down a little. 

"You just want to see Yeosang embarrass himself in front of her."

"Mostly. But for real, join us."

"What do you think, San?" Yeji is turning her head back, narrow eyes shining towards his direction. San gulps loudly, clenching his fist. "Shall we go?"

San likes Yeji. She is in Jongho's class, but her best friend is in San's, so she was always around in some way. Yeji is nice, always helping San with his biology homework selflessly. She really is a gem, but she is also the only one referring to San and Wooyoung like a couple, and even when San is sure no one knows about his real feelings, he can't be sure if Yeji is joking or just getting close to discovering it. 

That's why she is asking him with that mischievous look painted all over her face.

"Sure," San shrugs. 

Yeji grins back, braids moving when she faces Wooyoung again.

"Actually, I already have plans for tonight. But thanks for thinking of me," she then pinches one of Wooyoung's cheeks, immediately searching for San with her eyes. He looks away.

Wooyoung is groaning in annoyance next, thumb slightly moving over San's skin. 

"Then why do you ask?" Yeji laughs without actually giving an explanation. "Shut up and help us already, I don't know how longer will Mingi last."

San spies over his shoulder. The Song's convenience store is the only place they can get alcohol from due to them being underage and, also, because of everyone still seeing them like the little kids playing in the town's fountain at eight years old. There's no way they're getting alcohol from Mister Han—the old man that used to give them candy and also the owner of the town's liquor store—so the other option is buying it from Mingi's store without his father noticing. That's why Mingi stayed outside bonding with his father meanwhile Yeji discretely sells them the bottles.

Yeosang is squatting in front of the little options of alcohol in front of him, one hand under his chin, brushing repeatedly. 

"Do I really want cheap vodka?" He asks, more for himself than for the rest. "The last time I tried it I couldn't eat anything but pap for a week."

"That's wasn't because of the vodka, it was because you poured everything down a bowl and then put your head inside," Yunho nags, knees softly hitting Yeosang's back with every word.

"Sounds like something I would totally do."

He totally did it, San can affirm it. And he is sure Wooyoung has at least three videos of that night saved in his phone. One of Yeosang pouring the drinks inside a popcorn bowl. Another of Yeosang sticking his head inside. And another one of Yeosang puking all over Seonghwa's leather pants. 

San doesn't let his mind drift to that memory because Wooyoung is softly caressing his thumb all over his skin. Not paying attention to the three other persons around him, eyes glued to San's face. San's cheeks light up in pink, too absorbed in his own thoughts for a second to notice it sooner. 

"What?" San breathes through a pout.

Yeji has squatted next to Yeosang, and so has Yunho, too focused on the drinks to notice how Wooyoung smiles and moves his fingers from his wrist to his hand. Thumb softly applying pressure over his open palm. San looks down at the gesture, air getting tangled in his ribs, making him a little woozy. 

Wooyoung ends up intertwining their fingers, giving him a soft squeeze before closing his eyes in a fast smile, a dash of excitement sprinkling all over his full cheeks.

"Nothing," he brushes away, looking down at Yeosang. "Just choose already. You'll be wasted by nine either way, it's not like you're gonna remember what you take to your mouth."

Yunho burst into laughter, standing tall again, clapping loudly. His ears get red in a second, mind running wild with a lot of scenarios that include Yeosang taking things into his mouth. He ends up hitting Wooyoung on the chest, unable to stop laughing. 

"Okay, four of that and four of that," Yeosang points, standing up just to elbow Yunho in the stomach. 

"You are going to die tonight," Yeji asserts, putting all the bottles in one box and carefully closing it. 

They pick up the carbonated drinks to not look way too suspicious on their way outside after paying. Mingi's dad asks Yunho if the 'box of ramen' is heavy and Wooyoung has to push Yunho forward when he is about to start laughing. 

"Dude, what's wrong with you?" Mingi whines when he finally reaches them, bike circling around Yunho. "If my father finds out about this, we're done. You won't see me for the rest of the summer and I won't see the end of this for the next twenty years."

Yunho giggles again.

"I'm sorry, I'm still thinking about Yeosang and his mouth."

"Enough," Yeosang barks, then speeds up. Mingi is soon following him. 

San is in charge of Yunho's bike as the box is way too big, too delicate to carry it around in a bike. Wooyoung rides next to them instead of following Yeosang and Mingi. 

San's fingers tighten around the handlebar, still thinking about the softness of Wooyoung's fingers kissing his skin.

❀

The party takes place in Yeosang's basement, big enough for all them to be comfortable and not all over each other like it happens with Seonghwa's garage, but apparently not enough for Wooyoung. 

The boy sits close to San, down on the floor and in front of the couch where Seonghwa does Yeosang's birthday makeup, one leg over San's own. San drinks two cups of Yeosang's secret formula in less than ten minutes just to avoid his leg to shamelessly betray him with its shaking.

Wooyoung is too focussed playing a song on the guitar to even notice the third cup wrapped around San's fingers. 

"Is that the new song?" Hongjoong splatters on the floor next to them, Wooyoung gives him a single nod with a radiant smile. "Sounds amazing, I really want to kiss you right now."

Wooyoung throws his head back in a laugh, eyes finding San right after. 

"What do you think?" He asks, and San snaps back into the real world. Inside his mind, the scenario where they're both old and wasted but Wooyoung still plays songs with the guitar for him slowly vanishes.

"Oh," San is fucked. He hasn't been paying attention since they sat down, mind working fast and messy. "It's a dope beat."

If it comes from Wooyoung, then it must be good. It is always good. Wooyoung is gifted in everything he does. Like playing bass, and playing guitar, and singing. And loving San, even when it's not the same type of love San pours for him. He is so good at it San doesn't care at all.

Or, at least, he didn't care before Wooyoung started talking about leaving, both the town and him. Soon realizing how different they love each other. That's one of the things that have been making San's days heavy and fleeting. 

"So you don't mind if Hongjoong kisses me?" Wooyoung raises a brow. San is soon widening his eyes, exchanging looks with Hongjoong, who starts laughing like a preschooler. Wooyoung is looking at him dead serious.

"What?" San exhales, air burning his throat on the way out. "Why would you two kiss?"

"Don't get mad, it was a joke," Hongjoong is still giggling when he sits down, hands waving in the air. San scowls in silence as he can't say the words _I'm not mad_ without sounding pitiful. "Anyway, the song is amazing. We should totally play it at the summer festival."

"I don't know. It's a slow, acoustic song," Wooyoung mumbles, pointing a finger at Hongjoong before he can say anything, "and no, we are not arranging it. I like it this way. But I don't think it fits the festival vibes."

"I know, I know. But I think people would like it even like this, right?" Hongjoong looks at San, and so does Wooyoung. Once again, San is fucked because he doesn't have a clue of how the song even sounds. He got to listen to Wooyoung's soft mumbles next to him, as well with the calm guitar playing. But he was too embedded in his own thoughts to criticize it. 

He parts his lips, finishing up his cup in one go before speaking. Wooyoung raises both eyebrows, half amazed, half concerned. 

"It's good," he says in the end, the taste of alcohol making him scrunch his nose in discomfort. "It's a beautiful song."

"You think so?" Wooyoung's face lights up, a happy smile cracking his lips. 

San nods, fingers tightly tugging around the plastic cup. 

"See? We can even try it with a piano melody, what do you think?" Hongjoong points, bouncing his body.

"We don't have a piano."

"I have a piano," Yunho throws his body on top of Hongjoong's back, chin resting on top of his head. "I think it's my great grandma's or something. It's getting all dusty in my brother's room."

"Nice!" Hongjoong cheers, high fiving Yunho. "Do you know how to play piano, though?" 

"No," Yunho giggles, rolling down until his back is pressed down the floor, eyes closed and cheeks shining red. 

"You're useless."

"I offered the piano, not my pianist fingers," Yunho flails his fingers in the air, proceeding to tickle Hongjoong. They both start a weird fight, and it's not until Wooyoung is resting a hand on his head when San directs his attention towards him again.

Wooyoung's voice sounds airy.

"San does," Hongjoong and Yunho stop their fight to look into San, but San can't see the way their eyebrows raise in excitement because he is looking into Wooyoung's eyes. Wooyoung blinks, looking back at Hongjoong, fingers slowly tangling around San's strands. "His aunt knows how to play. She used to teach him during the summer."

"Oh, right!" Hongjoong stands on his knees, suddenly remembering San's aunt. A tall and elegant city business woman that attracted glances wherever she walked in. She stopped visiting them when she got married and moved to Paris, back when San was just eight. 

"Wait," San's lips tremble when he speaks, chest setting on fire. "That was ten years ago. We don't have the piano anymore, my mom sold it. And she only taught me the basics, which I don't remember."

"I'm sure we can work out with that," Hongjoong jumps on his feet, already pulling his phone out, ignoring him. "I need to learn everything I can about piano sheet music."

"Joong, you can't ditch the party to write music," Yunho whimpers, rolling on the floor.

"Watch me," Hongjoong challenges him, looking up at Wooyoung. "Send me what you have, I'll transcribe it. I'll try. Whatever."

Wooyoung raises his thumb at him, and soon Yunho is running into Jongho and his drink on his way to stop Hongjoong for running upstairs and into Yeosang's room. 

San presses his lips together, almost falling asleep because of how good Wooyoung's fingers feel on his scalp. 

"This isn't a good idea," he bemoans through a pout. Wooyoung's fingers stop its movement for a second. The boy gets a little closer, throwing his other leg onto San's lap, arms hanging from his neck.

San hates the way he stiffens for a second, melting when Wooyoung cutely bounces to get closer. His fingers start moving at the base of his head again, twineing his hair around them. 

"I think it's a good idea. Don't you want to play with me during the summer festival?" Wooyoung asks, eyes falling from San's eyes and into his lips. "Just you and I on the stage."

That's something San has always dreamt off. Way before getting scared of all his dreams scrambling right between his fingers. Looking at Wooyoung from the stage and not from his spot in between the crowd. Being able to experience what makes Wooyoung the happiest by himself. Walking hand in hand once again. 

Right now, he doesn't think he can get on stage with him. Because if he gets to feel that happiness inside his own veins, if he ever feels what Wooyoung feels when he is on stage, he knows he won't be able to hold it anymore. He won't be able to hold tight onto Wooyoung, because he will be sure of that one thing. 

This small town is not the place Wooyoung needs to flourish the way he needs. But if San has to stay, at least he wants to go to sleep thinking they would have been happy together with their old town, and their old love. 

San is ready to let the words flow— _I can't do it, Woo, both because it's been years since I decided to delete the slight knowledge I have about playing piano and because I am madly in love with you—_ when Wooyoung parts his lips, breathing his words out faster. 

"I wrote this song for you, afterall," he says and looks deep into San's eyes. Standing so close San is sure Wooyoung is able to taste the fear dripping from his parted lips. 

San's head is spinning and not because of all the alcohol fizzing inside his system, the tiny sound of bubbles dancing getting especially annoying in his chest. Wooyoung's words float around him, but he can't process them. 

And Wooyoung is looking into his eyes like he never looked at him before. A little bit hopeful, but San isn't even close to knowing why. 

"Nothing would make me happier than singing this song with you."

San's cheeks get painted in red and inside his ribcage, his heart starts pounding. Instead of blood, it seems like it's spreading fire all over his body. 

It reminds him of the summer where he turned ten years old.

Way before they got interested in music, and way before they decided to hang around in the empty parking lot of a coffee shop of broken dreams, they used to ride their bikes down the hill and deep into the forest, where Jongho's father built them a secret base. The same hill San fell down at twelve, the same secret base Yunho and Seonghwa kissed for the first time. 

San was ten and running fast, heart hammering behind his ears. The dry summer breeze tangling on his hair, making it all sweaty, but also getting inside his body through his parted lips. Burning his lungs, a constant piercing pain housed in the middle of his chest. Just because Yunho said he would kiss the first one that arrived at the secret base. San was ten and he didn't think at all, he just started running, wishing for Wooyoung to arrive second. Or last. But not first. 

That was the only thing rumbling in his mind while he pushed his body to the maximum in order to be first. Not because he wanted to kiss Yunho at all, but because of something deeper he couldn't understand yet.

In the end, Seonghwa arrived first and Yunho totally licked his face. Wooyoung got distracted catching a ladybug and ended up arriving last, and with a smile that totally reflected the summer time, he placed the ladybug on top of San's sweaty hair.

Wooyoung is looking at him the same way he did that day. Eyes on San only. As if the room was empty aside from them sharing a moment. 

"Woo," San finally says, even when it's nothing more than a whimper, hands falling on top of Wooyoung's thighs. He doesn't know what he wants to say anymore. 

Wooyoung wrote a song for him, and San was too distracted to even listen to it. Wooyoung wants to share his happiness with him, and San is still roaming around what will happen at the end of the summer.

He feels stupid for never in his life being able to voice out his feelings towards Wooyoung. Not when he was ten and scared Yunho took Wooyoung's first kiss, not now, eighteen but still stumbling around like a kid experiencing love and heartbreak at the same time.

Wooyoung doesn't seem to care, leaning forward. Their foreheads are touching, and when San gulps, he swears Wooyoung's lips are too close to his own. Breathing the same air. 

"Pizza is here!" Yeosang screams, kicking the door and walking down with two pizza boxes. Seonghwa follows him with two more, and right after them, Yunho is pulling from Hongjoong's arm.

As far as San remembers, Yeosang and Seonghwa were sitting on the couch just a minute ago. Or was it ten? Half an hour? For how longer has been San staring into Wooyoung's summer colored eyes?

The sound only starttls San, fidgeting so hard he ends up hitting Wooyoung's forehead with his own.

"Ow," Wooyoung closes his eyes, breaking the moment, and then he is standing up. Like nothing happened. No blush on his cheeks, not shaky hands. San is so jealous of him, but also devastated that their hearts don't beat at the same erratic pace. "Come on."

Wooyoung reaches out a hand for San, but the boy shakes his head, putting on his best smile. Feeling how a part of himself starts cracking under the pressure of reality. 

How much he wishes things could be as easy as they were when he was a kid unaware of deeper feelings than _Wooyoung is my best friend, and we are going to be together forever._

Maybe it all started from there. 

"I need to go to the bathroom first," San says, still on the floor. "Save me a slice."

"Of course," Wooyoung says, winking before turning on his heels and throwing one arm over Yeosang's shoulder. Loudly wishing him a happy birthday. 

Wooyoung really is like a summer song. Able to make everyone smile and forget about the rest of the world. 

San ducks his head low, letting the hair fall all over his face. He takes a hand to his forehead, fingers brushing the place. 

He sniffles hard, looking up to find Mingi and Jongho sitting right in front of him. Both of them sitting with his arms around his knees, tightly pressed to their chests. They're looking at San with big eyes and indecipherable expressions hanging from their lips.

San shifts on the spot, cheeks dusting in pink.

"What?" He mumbles.

Jongho is the only one moving, slowly shaking his head.

"Nothing. I'm just, how to put it out, surprised?" He frowns, not quite sure if that's how he actually feels. He looks at Mingi trying to get an answer out of him, but the boy is too focused staring at San without blinking. Jongho sighs, puckering his lips. "I'm surprised by how blind I've been my entire life," he nods to himself, finally content. 

"I'm going to the bathroom," San blurts, not quite understanding him, standing up and running upstairs. 

He is clueless about what Jongho and Mingi just witnessed. How close he got to kiss Wooyoung. 

❀

By the time four in the morning hits the clock, Wooyoung is already drunk. But so is everyone, Yeosang's sister having to break their little party when Yunho dares Mingi to breakdance and Mingi breaks the coffee table instead. 

San might be the most drunk of them all, just because he couldn't stand the way his heart wouldn't shut up. So he tried to drown it in whatever Yeosang poured into the lemonade pitchers. Strong, and burning, and making him dizzy to the point of being able to see the stars through the ceiling. 

Maybe because they're both stumbling over their feet on their way home, neither Wooyoung or San seem to remember their little conversation. 

Seonghwa and Jongho fell asleep on top of each other next to the broken table and Yeosang couldn't care less about it, leaving them there and crashing on his bed after giving everyone a kiss on the forehead, claiming this was his best birthday party ever—even when he says the same every single year. 

Mingi and Yunho jump on their bikes, reckless riding meanwhile Hongjoong runs at their backs. 

Wooyoung decides to leave his bike there and walk home, holding tightly onto San's hand. Swinging them in the air, singing loudly. San recognizes it in a second. It's that children's song they used to sing back in kindergarten. 

They sing together from the top of their lungs until they're reaching their houses. 

"Sleep with me," Wooyoung clings from San's neck, letting his whole weight rest on the boy's arms, almost crashing his knees into the asphalt. He purrs, eyelids tiredly fluttering. "Yeah? No?"

"Hmm." 

San's tongue is dry and dead, brain not working at all. Right now, the only thing he is sure about, is that the Wooyoung hanging from his arms is real and not part of an alcohol induced dream. And that he wants to sleep with him.

"Your house," Wooyoung slurs, pressing his forehead on San's chest to get the impulse he needs to stand back onto his feet. "If my dad finds me like this, I'll be trapped in this town forever."

These words pierce San's brain, making him scrunch his nose. Wooyoung is already holding his hand back, walking towards San's house.

"That's not that bad," he mumbles. 

"But it's not my dream," Wooyoung doesn't doubt, words sounding loud and clear. "Do you have your keys?"

San stands in front of the door, squeezing his eyes shut. Tightly. Feeling one second closer to start weeping. But he doesn't, he inhales and searches for his keys. 

In the end, his sister has to open the door for them as San is unable to find the door lock and, somehow, Wooyoung finds that extra funny, giggles chirping in the nighttime.

"Are you drunk?" Haneul asks, mockingly sniffing the air around San. 

"We are not," Wooyoung answers for him, taking a finger to his lips, bursting into laughter one second later.

San is the one pulling from him now, fast crossing the aisle that leads to his room, everything spinning around. They don't turn the lights on, blindly moving towards the bed while getting rid of their clothes. San leaves the shirt on, too tired to search for the one he has been using to sleep for the past week, but Wooyoung decides to jump on the bed only in his underwear. 

He quickly takes the spot closer to the wall, opening his arms in the air for San to fit in. San wants to hug him, but at the same time he doesn't. Conflicted with his own feelings, he ends up giving Wooyoung his back, just for the boy to hug him tighter. Arms around his waist, legs tangled and the tip of his nose slowly moving along the juncture of San's neck.

Wooyoung's skin is burning, or maybe that's how San perceives everything now.

"I love you," Wooyoung sighs, lips falling like a feather on San's nape. Kissing him lightly before falling asleep. 

San's not able to hold the tears anymore. 

❀

The summer festival takes place in the middle of July, just a few days after San's birthday. Compared to the ones that appear in the movies, their festival is nothing but a small party that takes place in the town square. There's not a lot of young people in town as the majority of them leave after turning eighteen, not coming back until their deep down their forties. For that, people go to sleep early and the music stops near one in the morning. 

Before _Sunrise_ first performed for it, the festival used to be real quiet. Just like the sun rising, the group of boys brought some light into town.

They still have a month until the festival, but one week after Yeosang's birthday Hongjoong is pulling San from his house and sitting next to him in front of the piano Yunho's parents kindly gave them—they got the mayor's permission to enter the abandoned coffee shop and put the piano in as it wasn't possible for it to fit inside Seonghwa's garage. It's not like someone gets close to that part of the town anyway, and like that, as San tries hard to remember what he learned ten years ago, the rest can rest on their habitual spot. Having the same conversations. Days not passing at all. 

San and Wooyoung never talked about what happened in Yeosang's basement. Neither about the way Wooyoung kissed his nap to sleep or held his arms tight around his body all night long. During breakfast the morning after they had a conversation about whether San wants to go to college or not—the inscription deadline ends by September, but San is not sure what he wants to do yet. A lot of things in mind.

Right now, Wooyoung sits next to Seonghwa, laughing at whatever Yunho is telling. He beams with happiness. 

"It's not bad," Hongjoong genuinely cheers, eyes sparkling with excitement. "You should have told me you played piano, that way you could join us on the keyboard."

San shakes his negative, hands falling onto his legs.

"I'm only doing this because Woo asked me to. I don't suit rock bands."

"Why?" Hongjoong gets curious, resting his cheek in one hand, elbow softly pressed down the piano tiles. 

San shrugs, looking down. 

"I don't have that vibe."

"What vibe?"

"The cool vibe," he tries to explain, pursing his lips. "You have it, Woo has it, but I don't. It's like you guys are chilly peppers and I am just cotton candy." 

Hongjoong chuckles. "Yunho is cotton candy. And the right way to address Yeosang would be _twenty percent alcohol._ " 

"Plus, piano and keyboards don't suit rock bands either," San keeps going, a languid sigh sliding through his lips. 

"We are still evolving," Hongjoong adds, sitting again, softly hitting a few notes. "I wanted to become a rockstar, but everyday I find more music styles I love. I don't think I'll be able to stick to just one. Think about it like people, like us."

San narrows.

"Like us?"

"When we were ten our dream was to become pirates," Hongjoong chortles, and San follows with a soft smile curving his lips, reminiscing the time where all they wanted to do was jump inside a big ship and sailor the ocean. Jongho's dad made wooden swords for them, and San still has his own under his bed, worn out wood filled with pen marks, Wooyoung's name written a thousand times. "Then we grew up and found other dreams, and now here we are. Who knows what will happen by the end of the year. Or in a year. We are always evolving, and the future is unpredictable."

San wishes he had those answers already, just so the fear of the unknown could vanish and let him sleep at night. 

"Still not making up the fact I don't suit a band, regardless the type."

"I think you do," Hongjoong looks at him with stars in his eyes. "I would love for the eight of us to be part of _Sunrise_. That way we can be together forever."

San bites the corner of his mouth, slightly looking outside. Yunho and Yeosang are dancing now, Mingi recording everything, jumping around so excitedly the whole truck bounces with him. They look so alive.

"Do you think we will grow apart?" San wonders in a calm voice.

"I think we love each other, and that's enough for me." San turns around, not expecting to hear that. Hongjoong's eyes are focused on the piano tiles. "Even if we spend years away from each other, I can still picture us hanging around like this. As if time haven't passed at all."

"Do you think you will come back?" San asks now. "Here."

Hongjoong gazes at him, raising a brow.

"You wouldn't?"

San saves to himself the fact he might not even leave to start with. 

Finishing up, they all leave to have some grilled meat. Wooyoung is already running towards San, fingers brushing the hair away from his face as he asks how did the rehearsal go. And when San mumbles that everything went well, he can't help but think about what Hongjoong told him. 

Even if Wooyoung leaves, even if ten years pass and they grow apart, San would always treat him the same. He hopes Wooyoung would never forget about him. 

❀

Arriving at the small restaurant run by Ryujin's parents, Wooyoung doesn't waste time and sits on San's lap, cutely bouncing his legs as they wait for the girl to come around to ask for their order. Something they're used to. Still making San's ribcage bloom in nameless wildflowers with every breath. 

Of course, where Ryujin is, there's Yeji. The girl is sitting by the counter, eyes fixed on San. But today she's not the only one sending shivers down his spine, Jongho and Mingi gazing at him from time to time, then looking into each other's eyes like they just found gold. San closes his eyes tightly, resting his forehead in between Wooyoung's shoulder blades, trying to hide himself behind his body.

He circles his arms around Wooyoung's waist, fingers meeting on his abdomen. 

"Uh, Wooyoung, do you need a chair?" Ryujin asks when she finally comes around.

"I'm fine," San hates how even his voice sounds. Not nervous neither shy, just sitting on San's lap because they've seen each other's naked and not just because he wants to. Like San always does. Finding a special comfort inside Wooyoung's arms he can't find in any of their friends.

"San?" Ryujin's voice reaches his ears. "Do you want a chair?" 

Suddenly, the only thing San is able to perceive in the air, are his frantic heartbeats. The conversations flowing around them stop, both from their table and the ones surrounding them, almost like the entire town is having their full attention on San. Slowly, ever so slowly, opening his eyes and realizing everything. 

Like Yeji did. And Jongho, and Mingi.

"San," Wooyoung's voice seeps through the silence, body falling back into San's. Back glued to his chest, his head lightly resting over his shoulder. The curve of Wooyoung's nape so easily molds over the curve of San's shoulder, almost like their bodies are trying to tell him how they were made to fit like puzzle pieces.

Wooyoung looks at him from underneath his own lashes. The rest of the table follows his gaze, but none of them do it in the way Wooyoung does. Yeosang's lips part a little, eyes immediately finding Jongho. The boy shrugs, saying _I told you._

San can focus on two things at a time to even realize the knowing looks joining them for dinner. And these are the way his stomach bathes in warm light, and Wooyoung's eyes, that hold the summer inside. 

For the way their bodies are glued, San knows Wooyoung might be feeling the erratic pulse against his back. San cares and that makes his hands all sweaty and gross. Wooyoung is breathing so lightly he looks ready to fall asleep right into San's arms.

He doesn't care at all about how San's heart beats for him only. 

"I'm fine," San finally says, not sure how much time has passed since Ryujin asked—a minute or three hundred years. For the way his face burns, he is sure he must look as red as Jongho's hair.

Wooyoung's eyes close in a smile, laying on top of him for as long the dinner lasts.

Slowly, everyone goes back into their own conversations, the sound engulfing San once again, buzzing in his ears. Wooyoung is in charge of feeding him, just because San won't break the hold of his hands around Wooyoung's waist to pick up his chopsticks. 

And he is not hungry anyway. 

He just wants to hold tight onto Wooyoung without caring if the rest of the world is looking. He wants them to look, actually. For them to see how much he loves Wooyoung. And maybe, with time, when Wooyoung is looking again into his eyes, he is able to see it too. 

❀

The day San turns eighteen welcomes him with a bright blue sky. No clouds, just the blue canvas spreading into the infinite. Standing in the middle of the road, looking up, San realizes it's been a month already. 

The summer is growing shorter with every breath that drains through his lips. 

"How does it feel?" Wooyoung asked him in the morning, breaking in his room so early the sun hadn't even risen yet. Snuggling close in bed, the tip of his nose pressed into one of Wooyoung's cheeks. "Being eighteen."

San was still drowsy, body curled in a ball, when Wooyoung jumped all over his body to give him the mandatory birthday kisses. He didn't give them to Yeosang, neither Yunho, but San's brain was still trying to wake up his body to let that thought sink in.

"The same," San had purred, body moving alone, huddling together in search of warmth in the middle of the summer. Nose glued to Wooyoung's shirt, not so covertly inhaling heavily. Taking that fresh scent to his lungs and holding it forever. "Like being seventeen. But not sixteen, though."

Wooyoung had hummed, accommodating himself next to San's body, one arm under his head, holding up his body, the other softly resting on San's waist. Fingers slowly moving over the curves of his body.

"What happened to your cute pajamas?" 

San had frowned still with his eyes closed, head rubbing against Wooyoung's chest.

"I'm eighteen now. I don't need bear pajamas. They're for kids."

Wooyoung's fingers crawled towards his hair, tousling the strands around.

"It's cute," he said in a shaky breath, taking his time. "You're cute."

San inhaled and exhaled, fingers meeting on Wooyoung's back when he hugged him tightly.

"You're the love of my life," San said below a whisper. 

Wooyoung remained silent, fingers moving to cup his face, thumb circling over his cheek. So light, almost too scared to break him. 

_Too late,_ echoed all over San's mind.

Right now, scratching the gravel with his burgundy shoes, he feels that was part of a dream. One where his chest stopped feeling heavy, stopped weighing him down. And it felt nice.

The blue sky is wide and scary, and San still carries around a heavy burden. 

They all gather around in San's backyard like preschoolers after lunch. Sitting around in a circle, taking turns to give San some homemade gifts. San told them a hundred times he didn't want any gifts, yet Yunho spends all the money he got last summer while working on the Song's store to buy him a big ass plushie and Seonghwa hands him, with watery eyes, a photo album filled with pictures of them going through the years. From their first day of school, San standing next to Seonghwa, both of them wearing the school's yellow bucket hats and making peace signs, to last month, Yeosang's birthday party, all of them wasted and blushing red while posing in front of Yeosang's broken coffee table.

The picture is blurry and a little dark, totally portraying how happy—and drunk—they were at that time. San remembers how Seonghwa balanced his phone on top of the couch to get the photo, falling to the ground one second later, and not into the cushions like Jongho predicted. 

San can't help but tear up a little as he looks through the pictures. There's five year old Jongho dressed as a strawberry and tangerine San doing cute faces at the camera—and in the background, banana Yunho making cherry Yeosang cry. Seven year old San and Wooyoung mesmerized by the golden fish they caught at the spring festival, stars dripping from their eyes. All of them standing with his swords raised in the air at ten, their little secret base standing at their backs. 

The colourful outfits changing into black ones as they turn fourteen. The rise of Sunrise. There's pictures of them in Seonghwa's garage, laughing loudly. Wooyoung wearing a sleeveless shirt, long hair already falling all over his face, strumming the bass. There's also a picture of San and Wooyoung when they were seventeen. At the beginning of the year, when the snow was still crunching under their feet.

They were holding hands, looking into each other's eyes. Wooyoung was pulling from San, but he doesn't remember where he was taking him. He does remember that day, though. It was the morning after New Year's Eve. And the only thing San remembers from that day are Wooyoung's eyes. 

"He is crying," Yunho's voice reaches his eyes at some point. San blinks fast, realizing the tears that are falling over the snowy picture. "Hwa, you made him cry!"

"Honestly, if you are planning to give me something like this for my birthday, forget it. I will cry like a baby," Mingi says, even when there's already tears on his eyes as he has been looking at the pictures over San's shoulder. 

"I will punch you in the throat," Jongho warns.

"I can't believe you bought me underwear with the day of the week on it but did all this for San," Yeosang clicks his tongue. "God does have favorites after all."

"You asked for it, idiot. Nothing that will make me cry, you said."

"The Wednesday underwear made me cry."

Yunho is throwing his head back in amusement. Wooyoung gets closer to San, one hand on top of his own, giving him a soft squeeze. San looks up, fast wiping the tears of his eyes. 

"Are you okay?" 

San nods, closing the album and giving him his best smile.

"It's fine," he whispers, but the lie curls on his throat, turning into a ball that doesn't allow the air out. He can't swallow without his face breaking, taking his free hand to his eyes. Trying to keep the tears inside becomes impossible, lukewarm water kissing his cheeks. 

Everyone stops talking to look at him. Wooyoung squeezes his hand harder. And San knows he looks like an idiot right now, but the situation is becoming unbearable and Seonghwa's gift reminded him how amazing his life was. How many stories, how many memories they all created together.

Once the summer ends, all that will be part of the past.

"I'm gonna miss it," his shoulders shake as he speaks. "I'm gonna miss this so much."

❀

San's crying ended up with hugs and his cheeks kissed. When his mother brought up the cake and his nose got covered in white cream, he felt like wanting to die for reacting like it was the end of the world. 

Wooyoung is the only one that stays after the sun hides behind the mountains. They both lay in silence over the warm grass, watching the stars in silence. San can't stop playing with the fabric of the shirt Mingi gifted him—and forced him to wear after all the crying, assuring it would make him feel better—, pink and with a big drawing of a bee in the middle, _bee happy_ can be read underneath it. It really makes San a little better. 

They don't talk about what happened, and San is glad. He doesn't know how long he will last with all the feelings he has for Wooyoung bottled up inside. He doesn't want the last memory Wooyoung takes with him ends up being San's crying face.

They just gaze at the stars. 

When Wooyoung finally decides to cross the road to his own house, San walks next to him. Standing in the middle of the road, looking down at his own feet.

"Your gift," Wooyoung says in a soft voice, coming closer to place a necklace in the cup of San's hand. "It's not as heartwarming as Hwa's, but it reminded me of you."

On the palm of San's hand, lays a golden necklace. The pendant hanging from the string is shaped in a tiny mountain.

San thinks it is actually as heartwarming as Seonghwa's gift. Mountains make Wooyoung think of San, that's what the necklace is saying out loud. 

San scrunches his nose, holding the tears this time, a wave of warmth flooding his entire being. 

"This is beautiful. Thank you," San sniffles, giving the necklace back to Wooyoung, turning around. "Help me put it in."

Wooyoung does it in silence, fingers not being the only thing that end up brushing the warm skin of San's nape. Soon, Wooyoung is wrapping his arms around his waist, pressing his forehead on the beginning of San's backbone.

Wooyoung inhales deeply, thumbs moving over San's abdomen. 

"San," he starts, doubting. San freezes, holding the air inside as well. He is shaking in anticipation. "You've been acting weird since I told you about leaving the town."

San screeches, heart congeling.

"I know you love it here, and that's the only reason I love it here as well. That's why I told you. I won't ever be mad at you for loving this town, if that's what has been making you sad." San wants to part his lips and say it. Say the real reason behind his summer lethargy, where he has been able to feel deeply than ever. Yet, he can't. If he does, he will end up crying. "But I can't stay here. I need to go. It breaks my heart but–"

"It's not that," San's voice comes out in a breath, breaking their hold and stepping forward. He can't face Wooyoung, so he looks down at the ground through blurry eyes. "I'm not mad at you, Woo. I will never be mad."

San doesn't wait for Wooyoung's answer, running inside the protection of his house, his room, where he can cry all he wants. 

_It breaks my heart, too. But you can go._ That's what he should've said, but couldn't bring himself to. 

❀

The summer festival arrives with a heat wave that has San's head spinning as he lays on the lukewarm floor of his room. He is able to hear the fan running from somewhere in the room, but the air doesn't reach his skin. The breeze coming from the open window just makes him sweaty and heavy.

With his fingers around the tiny mountain that holds from his neck, San thinks at how Wooyoung looked at him from his window in the morning after his birthday. Sadder than ever, but still waving at him.

Wooyoung has always been a sweetheart, and San is breaking his heart. He said it. Because of how he can't support his decision of going his way, San is breaking Wooyoung's heart. And for a moment, he forgets about his own broken heart. 

Wooyoung never had dark intentions. He is just following his dreams.

When the sun falls and all of them meet at the coffee shop for their last practice for the festival, San eats his feelings. He finally realizes he has been acting like a victim, and that hurts Wooyoung. 

He smiles at him and sits in front of the piano, ready to sloppily move his fingers all over the keys in the shape of Wooyoung's song. 

"You should seat here," Hongjoong says, pushing Wooyoung down right next to San. Shoulders bumping in the way.

It's the first time they are trying both the melody and the lyrics together. Wooyoung doesn't look so sure of it, a little bit conflicted. Scowling, lips curved down. And that's the first time San sees him like that.

"I think it will be more touching if I keep the lyrics to myself until we're on stage," Wooyoung murmurs, looking at Hongjoong and pointing a hand to the rest of the group. 

Something pierces San's heart. He wonders if it is because he wrote that song for him. Even after all the alcohol, Wooyoung's words are still floating around his memories. Wooyoung wrote a song for him. 

A song for San. A song he wanted to sing with him only. 

"Don't be an idiot. We want to listen to it." Hongjoong pats his back as the rest of them get comfortable on the dusty floor.

Wooyoung clicks his tongue, but he doesn't fight back. He gazes at San and, underneath all the sadness floating around his face, he is still able to paint a tender smile for him.

San gulps, fingers shaking when he raises his hands. Wooyoung gives him a weird look, and San can't pinpoint the meaning of it until Wooyoung starts singing. At first, his beautiful voice was accompanied by San's messy melody, sounding decent. All thanks to the way Wooyoung sings, a little airy and filled with feelings.

Looking right into San's eyes, trying to tell him something. 

And then he gets it. The song, the lyrics, the meaning. Wooyoung wrote them thinking of San.

His fingers stop moving, melody abruptly stopping. Wooyoung keeps on singing. Like always, his pinky finds San's pinky. Intertwining them together in a soft gesture. San's throat goes dry, closing around a lump that pierces him from the inside. The pain is so sharp the tears make their way down his cheek before noticing it.

_No matter what I'm going my way. It's what I've dreamed every night._

One heartbeat loudly piercing him from the inside. And—

_I always wanted you to take care of me._

After a long month, San can't take it anymore. The tears are already falling down his face when he jumps—and trips—off the chair. He doesn't look back at Wooyoung, rushing down the road that leads back to the core of the town and running. 

Running. 

And running. 

As fast as he ran to avoid Wooyoung from kissing Yunho. Until his chest isn't taking it anymore and his legs are betraying him. He falls down, scratching his knees like he used to do when he was a kid. Down the same road, of the same town. 

But San is not the same anymore. 

He lies on the empty road, letting the tears crash against the asphalt, for minutes. Hours. He isn't conscious of time anymore. A part of himself yelling and breaking things, furious at how childish he is acting. The other, just lets him cry. All the feelings that have been flooding inside him for weeks, finally out.

It's what he needs right now.

To grieve. 

It's not until the distinctive sound of rubber against the gravel reaches him when he realizes about how stupid he must look right now. Shrinking in the middle of the road, letting the sobs shake his entire body. So he tries to get up, falling on his ass once he feels the pain whiplashing him. Both his knees are bleeding, and for a reason, that makes him weep even louder. 

"Shit!" The next sound seeping his way, is also unmistakable. Wooyoung's voice. "You're bleeding!" 

San can't see him yet, but he does hear how he carelessly drops the bike and runs towards him. Kneeling in front of him, hands in the air, Wooyoung speaks in a breath. 

"I know," San sobs, shoulders shaking, warm tears crossing his cheeks nonstop. Even if he tries, he has been containing it for a long month. He simply can't stop crying. "I know I'm bleeding. And it hurts."

"What happens?" Wooyoung asks, looking genuinely worried when he presses both his hands into San's cheeks. "Just tell me already."

San blinks, trying to get rid of the tears, observing Wooyoung's blurry image in front of him. Like a mirage. Wooyoung is the best thing that ever happened to him.

His lips curve downwards as he speaks, Wooyoung's thumbs moving fast to wipe as many tears as he can.

"I don't want you to go," he finally takes that off his chest. And once he does it, he opens a door inside his heart. Everything that has been hurting starts falling around recklessly. "I don't want you to go because if you go, you leave me. I don't want you to leave me alone. It's so selfish but I always thought we would be together forever. Now you're leaving and I can't take it anymore. You don't understand, I'm–"

"I'm in love with you."

_That's right._

San's brain freezes, lips parted midway. He is sure he wanted to say a lot of things before dropping the bomb. He wonders if he really went faster than light and said that out loud, body melting when Wooyoung leans in, placing their foreheads together. 

"I'm in love with you, San."

_It was Wooyoung._

For a brief moment, San stares into Wooyoung's eyes in silence. Calmly. And then, he is crying all over again, but this time he isn't able to form any coherent words. He just weeps. Wooyoung moves forward, holding him in his arms. Like he always does. Somehow, putting every peace back into place.

"I don't want to leave you," Wooyoung mumbles against San's hair. "I wasn't thinking of leaving you."

"But you're leaving," San hiccups, tears staining Wooyoung's shirt, that smells like soap and salt.

"You're the one who doesn't want to come with me. At least, that's what I thought. Honestly, you suck at expressing yourself, Sani."

When Wooyoung pulls back from the hug, fingers softly digging into San's shoulders, he is smiling. San sniffles, closing his eyes when Wooyoung raises a hand to brush his tears away, hand staying on his cheek. 

"When I told you about my plans, I wasn't just informing you. I was including you." Wooyoung looks down at him, and in San's eyes, he will always be the reminiscence of every summer they spent together. "I've been planning our life together since we were ten. You and me, in the tiniest apartment, because that's the only thing we can afford. Going to college together and learning how to drive. Trying every single cake that exists and being able to see the sunset through the tall buildings. I'm in love with you, San, and I want us to be together. It's okay if you want to stay, but don't you dare think I'm leaving you. That's the last thing I would do."

There's a lot of things San wants to say. A lot of questions, but also a lot of sorry's. His lips part but the sound doesn't make it out, catching up by Wooyoung's own lips. Placed on top of his own with such delicacy for a second, it doesn't seem real.

There will be time for everything else. Right now, San raises both his arms. And hanging from Wooyoung's lips, he finally feels back into the place he always belonged to. 

❀

Seonghwa is the one cleaning up San's bruised knees, that end up covered in cute oranges patterned bandaids once he is finished. Everyone looks worried when they come back into the coffee shop, but no one asks about San's teary eyes or bruised knees. They hug him, take care of him. Change the tears for smiles. 

They also look at him like they know. For the way San clings onto Wooyoung, and also for the way Wooyoung kisses his cheek, they know.

San doesn't care anymore. 

He was the last one finding out Wooyoung's feelings, and that infuriates him to the point of crying even more all over the boy's shirt. 

"Oh, San! Are you staying over for dinner?" Wooyoung's mom pops her head from the kitchen when they rush into Wooyoung's house. Her eyes light up when she catches San there, and something bugs at the back of San's mind. Wooyoung's mom knows as well.

"Yep," Wooyoung is the one answering, tightening the hold around San's hand. "We will be upstairs."

"Okay. Have fun."

Once they're in Wooyoung's room, they let go of each other's hands. Sitting by the edge of the bed, San nervously plays with his fingers, still unsure of what to do with the amount of flowers growing out of his lungs with every glance he steals from Wooyoung. 

They haven't talked yet. About the future, about San's fears and insecurities. His mind can't help but drift towards the young city boy that came around the summer filled with hopes and dreams, and left in pieces. 

Wooyoung asked San to leave this old town with him.

San feels everything at the same time. Embarrassment, because he spent the past month worrying about an invisible monster. Shame, because he spent the past years thinking Wooyoung's heart would never beat for him. Excitement, but also unsafety. He worries too much about what's going to happen in the future, and worries too little about what's happening right now.

How Wooyoung crawls in bed and smiles into his mouth. So lightly, San feels like riding at the back of his bike again. Arms stretched in the air, ready to fly.

"You're a crybaby," Wooyoung giggles when a new wave of tears water San's cheeks, meeting his lips. San sulks, hiding his face on the crook of Wooyoung's neck. Wooyoung hugs him so tight San is able to feel his heartbeats molding to his own. "But you're also the love of my life."

San realizes for the first time how sweet Wooyoung's voice turns when he is talking to him. Dripping every good thing of the summer into his skin. 

"Will you come with me?" Wooyoung asks, moving back to kiss him everywhere. Leaving a trail of kisses alongside San's face. Giving him a kiss for every time he contained himself, he says. And there's so many kisses San loses the count.

Wooyoung doesn't judge. He doesn't blame San for his behaviour. His eyelids flutter and his hands move to his cheeks, cupping his face. Kissing him on the lips again. Deeply, slowly. Enjoying every second of it. 

Wooyoung loves San just as much.

San realizes he hasn't said it back yet. How much he loves him, even when Wooyoung seems to know already. 

"What if everything goes wrong and our dreams get crushed?" San asks in the end. He wants to go. He always dreamed of going out before the fear started creeping on his back. He is still scared, but in the end, Wooyoung's arms are still his safe place. 

And he wants to be with him for as long life allows them. 

Wooyoung moves a little, knees sinking in the mattress, cagging San with his legs. He stares tenderly into San's eyes, thumb caressing his skin.

"Then we can always come back to our old town." 

Suddenly, every worry is outflowing San's heart. In the end, Wooyoung ended up loving their old town as much as San does. 

Or maybe, they've been loving each other for as long as they can remember. 

It's the same. And it's old. Above all, it is beautiful.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kuds are much more appretiated!!! thank you so much for reading till the end <3
> 
> the song wooyoung writes for san is actually ateez's my way jsjsjsjs and in my country the coming of age is at 18, so that's what I used just in case someone was lost


End file.
